  UPON the railway train we met— She had the softest, bluest eyes, A face you never could forget— “Sixteen” with all that that implies. I knew her once a little girl, And meeting now a mutual friend, Our thoughts and hearts got in a whirl; We talked for miles without much end, I threw my arms around the seat Where, just in front, she sideways sat, Her melting eyes and face to meet— (And no one wondered much at that), For soon the station where she left Would on the sorrowing vision rise, And I at least should feel bereft; She was but kith, not kin of mine; Ten years had passed since last we met, And when in going she did incline Her face ’twas natural to forget, It seemed so like a child I knew— I met her half way by mistake; And coming near those eyes of blue, She gently kissed me—by mistake! She saw her error, and straightway ran With flaming blushes, rosy red; I should not be one-half a man If thoughts of wrong came in my head; In fact, I’d take that very train And travel daily for her sake, If she would only come again And gently kiss me—by mistake! Joel Benton. |
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